


One Lousy Day

by pluto



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-19
Updated: 2011-07-19
Packaged: 2017-10-21 13:50:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/225892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pluto/pseuds/pluto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shepard's had a lot of bad days, but she's never let them get to her--until things get too damn quiet.  Garrus tries to cheer her up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Lousy Day

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for my sis, firstblush, who was having a lousy day.

Shepard has had her share of bad days. She's got excuses out the ass to huddle in her room, clutching her gun and threatening anyone who disturbs her. She's always kept moving instead, on to the next job, the next villain, the next threat.

But today there's no threat to be immediately dealt with. The Reapers are out there, of course, but things have been quiet the past week, disturbingly so. Shepard expects it's the calm before the storm, but the storm could be tomorrow or it could be years from now. There's no maydays to attend to, no requests for aid from Anderson, nothing. She walks by Kelly four times, six times, in an hour. Always the same from her yeoman:

"No messages for you, Commander."

She prowls the deck and everyone looks the same: slightly bored, getting soft, almost content. Joker's practically got his feet up on the dash, hastily stashing a copy of Fornax back into his omni-tool as she approaches. She barely keeps from snapping at him to sit up, shape up. It's Joker, she reminds herself, and she's just in a lousy mood. Mordin's not much better, hustling her out of his lab, and Jacob seems distracted, staring off into one corner of the room. As Shepard leaves him, she swears she hears a girlish giggle, but there's no one there when she glances back.

Finally, she just tells Kelly she'll be in her quarters. "Don't disturb me until there's something to shoot at," she says, and heads for the elevator, ignoring the yeoman's curious look.

Of course, five minutes later, someone disturbs her. At least whoever it is has the courtesy to ring instead of walking straight in. Shepard blows an annoyed sigh through her teeth and closes down the vid she'd been attempting to watch. She practically punches the door release.

"What?"

It's Garrus. Dressed casual. He has one hand behind his back, and she cocks an eyebrow.

"Not sure today's the best day for a date, Garrus."

"Kelly said you were looking for something to shoot."

She doesn't step aside, not yet, but she does throw him a grin. "Planning to work on your ducking skills?"

He laughs. "Uh, not today, Shepard. But I've got something else that might help you blow off a little steam." He reveals his hand: he's holding a small, ball-like piece of machinery.

She squints, hesitates at his choice of phrasing, given their history. "That's not a, uh--" She stops. Do turians even have--

"It's a target practice drone. A good one, too. I had Mordin give it a few adjustments. I think he's outdone himself. But I know how you like a challenge. Figured we could set it off in the cargo bay, load up some practice ammo… " He pauses. "Why? What did you think--?"

"Never mind," she says hastily. And then more cheerfully. "Should've known I could count on you, Garrus." She elbows him in the side. "Let's go get suited up."

#

Garrus is right. Mordin has outdone himself. The damn drone is harder to hit than a collector seeker, and practically as small. Shepard's getting better at hitting it, but she's not so sure this is helping her state of mind. Her jaw is starting to ache from clenching her teeth so damn hard. It doesn't help that Garrus seems to be on a gold streak--he's outdoing her two-to-one, and not above a triumphant "scoped and dropped" now and then. Usually they're about even, and she's ready to ask if Mordin didn't mess with the drone in other ways when the damn thing starts shooting back.

It's not live ammo, of course, but it stings, even through her hardsuit, and she stumbles slightly back. Stupidly manages to land wrong on her foot and then she's on her ass, swearing up a blue storm.

Garrus offers her a hand, but she swats it away. "I'm fine," she says, crossly, but trying to get to her feet, it's clear she's not fine. She's done a good one on her ankle, only the stupidest, most humiliating injury known to man. Her medi-gel unit is empty and it's 50 feet to the elevator. The drone pings her a few more times before Garrus remembers to shut it off.

She wishes, secretly, that she could throw a tantrum. Instead she just sighs.

Garrus's hand is in front of her face again. In it is a medi-gel pack. Grudgingly, she accepts it, and the cool relief it offers.

"You all right, Commander?" he asks, as she stands. "Your shots were a bit off."

She tests her weight on her wounded foot. Better, but it'll probably bloat like a balloon later if she doesn't get to Chakwas. "A bit? That's putting it politely, Vakarian. Just say it like it is." But then she catches herself, stops. "Sorry. Lousy day. Not even lousy. I don't know. I feel…"

"Adrift? Lost?"

She looks at him and nods. "Don't think I'm the only one. Everyone seems a bit… off. Miranda on endless calls to Oriana; Gabby and Tali and Kenneth playing poker instead of minding the engine; Jack and Zaeed up to--well, I don't want to know…"

Garrus takes a seat on one of the crates, chuckling. "I don't think they're 'off,' Shepard. I think they're… enjoying the break. We won't get much more time like this. Not with what's coming."

She shoots him a look. "What are you saying, I should try and relax?" she says, dryly.

"Yes," he says, bluntly. He shifts his weight, sets his gun to one side. "Look, Shepard, I know you like to keep busy. But maybe I--we… Maybe I can help you find something to do."

She raises an eyebrow. "Is this some gamble for more of my time, Garrus?"

He rubs the back of his neck. "Wellll… I wouldn't object. But I don't want to impose, of course."

She looks at him, considering. Then she sits down next to him, scoots over, so their armor bumps together with a slight clang. Slides an arm around his slim waist. He hesitates, puts an arm over her shoulders, and she lets herself be pulled against him.

She tries to relax. Might even be managing it.

"I think I just remembered a job that needs doing," she says.

"Oh?"

She lets her hand slip downwards, gives him a meaningful squeeze and a quirk of her eyebrows.

"Oh!" He practically hops to his feet. "Yeah. Let's, uh. We should get right on that."

Shepard grins and follows Garrus to the elevator. Maybe it'll turn out to be a good day, after all.


End file.
